


Love Potion #1

by LittleLostStar



Series: Your Love is My Drug [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Drunk Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Flustered Victor Nikiforov, It's the AU we've needed fam, M/M, Making Out, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, They literally just get as high as kites and flirt a bunch and then hook up, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Victor Nikiforov, stoner fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:20:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9822407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLostStar/pseuds/LittleLostStar
Summary: It's the stoner party flirt-and-hookup AU that no one asked for, but I wrote anyway.~“Friends. Loved ones. Allow me to introduce you to Love Potion #1,” Chris proclaims, brandishing two large and expertly rolled joints. “It has one of the highest levels of euphoria you can find ‘round these parts. Literally award-winning levels of happiness. And it makes sex amazing,” he concludes with a wink, looking pointedly at a visibly squirming Yuuri. Victor bites back a smile as he watches Yuuri flush bright red all the way up to his ears.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously this fic contains fairly detailed descriptions of drug use, which may or may not be legal in your area. I don’t condone the illegal use of drugs, so if you're a minor or live in a place where pot is illegal, uh, don't do that thing.
> 
> With that said, Love Potion #1 is a real strain of weed, and it’s delightful.
> 
> I came up with this idea weeks ago, wrote a bunch of it while a little stoned, and then filed it away to finish later. I expected it to be just a few thousand words but it turned into something much cuter.

 

 

 

Victor Nikiforov  
  
**Victor Nikiforov:** Chris. Kotyonok. I’m desperately bored. What are we doing tonight?  
  
**Chris Giacometti:** Well, Isabella’s away for the weekend so JJ and I were gonna get wasted. We could move it over to our place tho.  
  
**Chris Giacometti:** Emil says he’ll try to be over later, and Georgi is down for shenanigans too. Drag Sara with you and it’ll be an official shindig.  
  
**Victor Nikiforov:** Anyone else?  
  
**Chris Giacometti:** I mean, we could invite Otabek, but he’s no fun. But I’ll see what I can do. Just for you. Because I’m saintly AF  
  
**Victor Nikiforov:** Delightful. I'll be home at 8 or so.

Yuuri Katsuki  
  
**Chris Giacometti:** Yuuri. You in for a party tonight? You can’t say no.  
  
**Yuuri Katsuki:** ...excuse me? Sure I can. No. I spent the entire day unpacking.  
  
**Chris Giacometti:** Yes. And I’m throwing you a welcome-to-the-city party. A housewarming at my house.  
  
**Yuuri Katsuki:** I'm tired, Chris.  
  
**Chris Giacometti:** You'll be here within the hour.  
  
**Yuuri Katsuki:** No, I won't.  
  
**Chris Giacometti:** Be a lamb and bring us some snacks?  
  
**Yuuri Katsuki:** Sigh.  
  
**Yuuri Katsuki:** What kind?  
  
**Chris Giacometti:** Attaboy. And I dunno, whatever strikes your fancy. You have good taste in junk food.  
  
**Yuuri Katsuki:** That might be the worst compliment I've ever heard.

Yuuri has learned that when he gets to Christophe’s house, he will always want to hesitate before he knocks on the door. He has learned that if he hesitates, even for a single second, he will turn around and walk away. He’s learned that if he does this, then he will find out afterwards that he missed out on a ridiculously good time; he’ll curse himself for being such an antisocial weirdo, and vow to attend the next party no matter what. And he’s learned that if he doesn’t nip those impulses in the bud, then the cycle will continue. Sometimes you just have to take your introvert tendencies, hold them tenderly in your arms, and abruptly shove them aside.

So, no hesitations. Walk right up to the door, fist already raised, and make contact before he comes to a full stop. Three quick knocks, nothing more; then he’s committed, and it will be too late to let his hermit impulses drag him away from fun. It was like this back when he and Chris lived in Michigan during college, and it’s like this now, hundreds of miles away. Whether Detroit or Seattle, Yuuri’s friendship with Chris relies significantly on his own ability to banish his fear and dive straight into the Day-Glo version of reality lived by the most social person he’s ever known.

Chris never takes very long to answer; he appears with a mischievous smirk, pulls the door wide open and steps aside with a flourish, impishly snatching the grocery bags from Yuuri’s hand.

“Welcome, stranger!” he winks. He goes still for a second and lets Yuuri come to hug him, at which point he melts into Fluid Chris again and claps Yuuri on the back in return. “It’s been way too long.”

Despite himself, Yuuri finds that he’s grinning. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I’m...I’m glad you texted me.”

“Well, come in! Everyone else is here, so now we can get the party started,” Chris hustles him down the hall to the living room, pausing only briefly to duck into the kitchen and drop the grocery bags on the counter. Yuuri crosses the threshold, hallway floor giving way to plush carpet, and freezes in his tracks; he watches as five heads turn to look at him, and five pairs of eyes look him up and down.

 _Fuck._ Yuuri tries to smile, but before he can muster the courage to speak Chris takes care of the problem. He saunters over, wraps an arm around his shoulders, deposits a beer into Yuuri’s free hand, and gestures to the room with a sweep of his arm.

“Everyone! This is Yuuri Katsuki. We used to hang out in college in Detroit and he just moved here to work for Wizards of the Coast as a professional nerd.”

“Data manager,” Yuuri mumbles, and takes a long drink.

“Right, data manager. He knows stuff you wouldn’t believe about just about everything. Yuuri, this is everyone.”

Yuuri shoots Chris a dirty look: _you know I don’t like that._ For a second Yuuri fears that Chris has forgotten all of the little supportive tricks he used to know to bring Yuuri out of his shell, but then Chris chuckles and points to each person in turn:

“That’s Sara. She’s a whiz at front-end development, can do things with JQuery that would make angels weep. JJ is a concert promoter, he’s met Bono and thinks it’s a big deal. Emil sells penny farthing bicycles to stupid hipsters—don’t look at me like that, Em, no one genuinely rides those things—and Georgi is...what are you doing nowadays?”

Georgi huffs. “I sell high-end audio experiences to—”

“—vinyl. He sells vinyl, also to hipsters. Don’t ask him any questions at all if you want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the night,” Chris grins, ducking when Georgi throws a gummy bear at him.

Yuuri drinks his beer and looks around the room, mentally checking everyone off as they resume their conversations: Sara the developer, with jet-black hair and purple eyes; JJ the promoter, with an arrogant gleam in his eye and a tendency to speak with his hands; Emil, who actually makes a blonde beard look good; and Georgi, deep-voiced and serious.

There’s one more person. He’s tall and lean, with light platinum blonde hair that he keeps pushing out of his eyes as he talks to JJ. Chris tracks Yuuri’s eyeline and snickers.

“Right. That’s Victor,” he explains, waving across the room, and Yuuri watches as Victor’s face lights up and he waves back before going back to his conversation.

“Oh. Victor...”

“Nikiforov. We work together and he moved into the second bedroom about five months ago. He’s a good dude; you should go say hi at some point.”

Yuuri takes another very long drink of beer, which Chris seems to think is some kind of hilarious response, even though it most certainly isn’t. But, nonetheless, he makes a note to go say hi. At some point.

But first, Chris has other plans.

~

The late summer means that it’s still warm at night, and the party guests all stand in a circle on the porch. Victor takes a deep breath and tilts his head, stretching his neck and feeling the weight of the work week dissipate. It hasn’t even been half a year, but the suite already feels like home, even though most of the furniture belongs to Chris; Victor has lived in lots of places and in many situations, but he’s genuinely never felt as comfortable as he does here. Victor has no qualms about openly admiring good qualities in other people, and he loves watching Chris socialize; the guy will stroll right up to the line of acceptable interactions, outrageous to his core, but he never crosses them without permission. He’s the kind of person who’s able to be friends with just about everyone—including, apparently, shy Japanese data managers with ridiculously expressive eyes.

Victor looks the new guy up and down: black jeans, royal blue sweater, black glasses which seem to disappear into his equally dark hair. He looks compact, as if he’s trying to take up as little room as possible, and against his will Victor’s heart flutters ever so slightly with empathy—after all, who hasn’t been the lone new person at a party? It’s a universal experience. _So this is Chris being saintly as fuck, huh? Turning the party into a housewarming for...what was his name? Yuuri._

He likes the way it sounds in his head.

It’s not surprising at all that boisterous Chris would be friends with someone who seems like he’s never been outside a dorm room, because Chris is just a cool dude like that. He has good taste in people, no matter how they may seem at first glance. _Also, my lord, he has absolutely incredible taste in drugs._

They’re app developers in Seattle. Weed is practically its own food group, and Christophe Giacometti is the Jamie Oliver of marijuana consumption. And tonight, Chris looks particularly excited.

“Friends. Loved ones. Allow me to introduce you to Love Potion #1,” he proclaims, brandishing two large and expertly rolled joints. “It will change your life.”

“You say that about everything,” Emil grumbles.

Chris’ eyes are almost twinkling with wicked joy. “This time I’m serious, Em. Love Potion #1 is the happiest little sativa you ever did meet. This beauty will make you relaxed and energetic at the same time; it has one of the highest levels of euphoria you can find ‘round these parts. Literally award-winning levels of happiness. And it makes sex _amazing,_ ” he concludes with a wink, looking pointedly at a visibly squirming Yuuri. Victor bites back a smile as he watches Yuuri flush bright red all the way up to his ears.

“Well?” Sara reaches across the circle, snapping her fingers. “Don’t leave us hanging, Chris.”

“Right!” With a flourish, Chris whips open a Zippo and lights both joints at once, taking a long experienced inhale before handing one over to Sara. Victor notices that Yuuri is watching Sara intently as she brings the joint to her lips and takes a sharp drag—almost as if he isn’t very familiar with how smoking a joint works.

 _Oh, Christophe, what have you dragged this poor boy into?_ Victor wonders.

When Sara passes the joint over, Yuuri appears to mimic her movements, albeit with less grace; he inhales too much and doubles over, coughing, but nonetheless passes the joint to Emil.

Victor feels a nudge in his ribs, and he snaps back into reality to find Chris offering the second joint, one eyebrow raised high, which Victor _pointedly_ ignores as he takes a few hits. The smoke hits his lungs, sharp and sudden, and he holds his breath for as long as he dares before exhaling smoothly. Victor passes the joint to Georgi, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as he feels the weed start to take hold, like a flower blooming in his brain. _God_ damn _I love this. Hashtag blessed._

Victor wonders if smoking pot will ever stop feeling rebellious. He’s twenty-seven; he’s lived in Washington State for two years, and was in Vancouver, BC before that for grad school, so he’s more than familiar with the stuff. But his upbringing was so strict, and he was such a teetotaler in the first few years of his bachelor’s degree, that smoking up still feels a little bit thrilling. At this point, though, he’s been at it long enough to know his sativa from his indica, to have preferred strains and lineages, and to know what to avoid. Weed is just...so much fun. It makes everything fun. And this stuff—Love Potion #1—already feels good, even after just a few hits.

 _If this is Yuuri’s first time smoking pot, he’s in for a wild ride_ . Things are already piling up in Victor’s head, a million little thought paths that lead to ridiculous places. Places like _man, I wonder if Yuuri has been to Pike Place Market yet_ and _oh DUDE I should go as Jillian Holtzmann for Halloween this year, gotta remember this_ and _god, I haven’t been laid in six months._

Victor opens his eyes and looks around the circle. Georgi is trying to teach JJ how to French inhale, Chris is arguing with Emil about bikes—and Yuuri is gone. There isn’t even a gap between Sara and Emil, where he once might have stood. Victor finds himself wondering if he actually imagined Yuuri, since he’s been so quiet this whole time, but _no, that doesn’t make sense, he brought snacks. I put the snacks in bowls. They’re sitting in the kitchen, and oh my god I want some chips_ —

Just as Victor’s starting to concoct a grand plan to sneak into the kitchen for some salt and vinegar goodness, he feels a soft tap on his shoulder and turns to see—Yuuri. Holding a beer.

Victor is flooded with relief. After all, if Yuuri was imaginary there’s no way he’d be able to hold a very real beer bottle. _Or would he?!_

“Um. Hey,” Yuuri murmurs. “Can—can I stand here?”

 _Stop. Staring. Victor._ “O-oh. Sure.” He moves aside a few steps, and Yuuri squeezes in between him and Chris, just in time to accept one of the joints.

“Sorry, do you want this first?” he offers, voice just velvety fucking soft.

 _Pull yourself together, you idiot._ “Oh, no, go ahead.” Victor gives his honest best try to avoid looking at Yuuri as he smokes, a little smoother on the inhale this time. He definitely does not notice how Yuuri puckers his lips before exhaling a long, thin stream of smoke into the night. Victor stares at the smoke as it rises up towards the sky, just now starting to blink with stars; movement in his peripheral vision distracts him, and he glances over to see that Yuuri has looked upwards as well, beatifically gazing at the heavens. After a few seconds—an eternity, it feels like, looking at that beautiful face _no Victor bad Victor stop it_ —Yuuri hands over the joint, dangling between his long fingers. Victor reaches out and their fingers touch, just barely, and suddenly Victor is hyper-aware of how dry his hands are. He takes a few long drags and lets his head get a bit fuzzier before remembering his manners.

“Hey, by the way,” he croaks. “I’m—I’m Victor.” Dry skin or not, he sticks out his hand.

Yuuri shakes hands in a manner which can only be described as _elegant_. “Yuuri,” he replies. “Thank you for inviting me to your home.”

“No problem,” Victor replies, passing on the joint. “I mean, Chris is very much the mastermind here, but we’re glad you came.”

_Victor no why did you say ‘came’ now he’s going to think you’re talking about sex and oh god six months. How many days are in six months? Thirty days hath September, April—_

“...Victor?”

He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts, and chuckles. “Sorry. Weird train of thought.” _—oh man I wonder if Yuuri’s seen the Skyrim mod where all the dragons have been replaced with Thomas the Tank Engine?_

Victor opens his mouth to ask, but he’s mentally composing a several-hundred-word introduction to the concept of modding, so he shuts it again. Yuuri cocks his head to one side.

“You okay?”

 _Yep, just winning the Worst First Impression Award, NBD_. “Haha, yeah,” he chuckles. “I was going to say something but it was just stoner nonsense.”

Chris pops up over Yuuri’s shoulder. “Victor, darling, you know our rule. All stoner nonsense must be vocalized.”

Yuuri freezes, clearly uncomfortable at the idea, and Victor’s heart all but breaks at the thought of having to deal with the very complex mental curlicues of sativa weed for the first time _and_ being forced to talk about them. _Victor to the rescue!_

“Absolutely not,” he replies firmly, to which Yuuri relaxes. “Safe space, asshole.”

“Bite me.”

And just as Victor is about to reply, Yuuri smirks. “He likes it when you leave a mark,” he mutters under his breath, and Victor might be crazy but it sure seems like he’s the only one who heard it.

Chris seriously has the best taste in people.

~

The clock crawls past nine. Victor wanders into the kitchen, desperately craving food, to find Yuuri standing at the counter and contemplating several bowls of snacks with a fierce and calculated look of hunger. Victor stops in his tracks and gulps like a cartoon character before sashaying up to the kitchen island.

“What do we have here?” he asks, trying for a casual tone and hopefully hitting it. He can’t really tell.

Yuuri glances over, mischief in his eyes, and Victor isn’t sure if his knees go weak or if he just imagines it in that recursive stoner way where things reverberate until they seem real.

 _Hey, weirdo, don’t lose focus,_ because Yuuri still has that hungry look and he’s saying something about food. Victor looks down to see a plate full of white clumps with slight hints of colour inside.

“... _what_ are those?”

Yuuri plucks one of them off the plate and examines it closer. “Well, the bag said white chocolate clusters with crushed Froot Loops in them. I kinda _had_ to buy them.”

“Yeah no fucking kidding,” Victor breathes, reaching in close to take one for himself.

“I’ve never had them before, though. They might be awful,” Yuuri admits.

Victor grins. “Well, only one way to find out,” he holds up his own lump of chocolate and knocks it gently against Yuuri’s in a toast. “Bottoms up?”

They both chew at once. Yuuri looks deadly serious, and Victor can actually _see_ his tongue exploring the inside of his cheeks as he discerns the taste like an expert sommelier. _Jesus take the wheel._

Yuuri’s pout becomes a contemplative frown.

“Well?” Victor asks, mouth still full, so it comes out as “Wewwl?”

Yuuri swallows. “This is maybe the most stoner candy ever made,” he says. He leans in close to Victor, looks him straight in the eye, and murmurs: “We need to tell _everyone_ about these.” And he says it with such reverent seriousness that it makes Victor crack up, covering his mouth with his hand to avoid spewing Froot Loop bits everywhere. When he recovers, deathly embarrassed, he sees Yuuri standing at the doorway of the kitchen, holding the plate like a butler. He jerks his head towards the main room.

“C’mon.”

_God, yes. Wherever you want to go, you ridiculously cute person I’m increasingly glad I didn’t make up._

 ~

It’s nine-thirty and Chris has brought out his bong, and Yuuri watches Victor take an incredibly long drag and he wonders what else the man can do with lungs and sucking power like that.

 ~

It’s quarter to ten and Chris has hooked up Mario Kart, but since he only has four controllers everyone agrees that they’ll rotate out after each tournament. Victor and Yuuri sit the first round out, and Victor asks Yuuri about data management, and sits and listens as Yuuri’s eyes brighten and he talks excitedly about the server requirements for Magic: the Gathering Online and makes databases sound completely fascinating. They completely forget to ask for their turn at the Wii.

 ~

It’s 10:30 and Victor has just finished telling everyone about the time he had to go pick up Chris, who was standing outside of a McDonald’s at three in the morning wearing nothing but a frilly nightgown with Fluttershy on it and carrying a half-inflated alien blow-up doll, and Yuuri laughs so hard he falls off the couch. He’s too high to be embarrassed, and when he looks up he sees that Victor has leaned over to offer assistance. Yuuri only hesitates for about a second before gripping Victor’s forearm, and he tries hard to mask the fact that shivers are rippling through his whole body at the touch.

It’s time for like five more bong hits.

 ~

It’s eleven, and Emil proposes that they watch a bunch of silly Youtube shows about video games. Georgi takes the opportunity to bow out, claiming an early morning the next day, but everyone else gathers on the couch. Yuuri is squeezed into the corner; Victor doesn’t mean to, but he ends up right next to him, and he keeps his right side rigid to avoid any intrusion into Yuuri’s personal space. Then, sometime during the second episode of Monster Factory, while laughing until he aches, Victor feels something and looks over to see that Yuuri has spread out a little, sitting with legs crossed, and his knee is touching Victor’s upper leg. Yuuri notices that Victor has noticed and flushes ever so slightly, but before he can withdraw Victor puts his hand on Yuuri’s knee and pats it—once, twice—and then casually crosses his left leg over so his shin hovers somewhere near Yuuri’s, and it’s pretty cool.

 ~

It’s 11:30; someone has turned off all the lights in the living room other than a few strings of Christmas lights that are tacked up near the ceiling. Sara has attached her phone to Chris’ epic sound system, playing some of, to quote, “the chillest motherfucking music you’ve ever heard,” and Victor has to admit that she’s kind of right. It’s perfect—upbeat but relaxed pop music, nothing too weird but nothing too familiar. Victor’s about to close his eyes and descend into a delightful stupor when he sees that Yuuri, sitting next to him, is _dancing._ Kind of. He has his own eyes closed and a blissed-out look on his face, and he’s swaying to the beat: left, right, left, left; right, left, right, right. Hypnotic, especially in the low illumination from the Christmas lights. As Victor watches, Yuuri drops his chin a little and runs one hand through his hair from nape to crown, grasping at his thick black hair for just a moment of pure sensory exploration and leaving it looking disheveled in all the right ways. Victor watches, mesmerized, as Yuuri proceeds to smooth down his hair, still grooving to the music and lost in his own world. _God, seeing people stoned for the first time is adorable. Or maybe it’s just Yuuri who’s adorable._

Victor looks past Yuuri to Chris, who has been watching this whole tableau with stoned fascination. As soon as the roommates lock eyes, Chris apparently has some kind of idea, and he winks at Victor before getting up and strolling over to JJ, who is also dancing in his chair. Chris taps him on the shoulder and offers his hand.

“May I have this dance, my platonic pal?” Chris purrs. JJ rolls his eyes, but accepts; Chris pulls him up to a stand and they begin to dance, easy and casual. They’re joined almost instantly by Sara and Emil, who stand _quite_ a bit closer to each other as they sway. Victor leans over, lips to Yuuri’s ear.

“Sara’s brother is kind of ridiculously overprotective,” he explains over the din, even though Yuuri didn’t ask. “She and Emil just started dating even though they’ve known each other for five years.”

Yuuri nods, watching as Emil’s hands drift from Sara’s waist to the top of her ass and she giggles. “They’re, uh, certainly affectionate.”

Victor chuckles. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” Yuuri looks over at Victor, then back at the group, then down at his hands in his lap. Victor sees Chris beckon him silently, pointing at Yuuri and then to the floor next to a shimmying JJ.

 _Oh for fuck’s sake_ —

But just as Victor is about to mouth back some kind of clever insult, Yuuri turns and nearly bumps into Victor’s nose. They both jerk back, chuckling in embarrassment, and then Yuuri looks back at the dancers.

“Would you—would you like to—”

It’s incredibly difficult to appear chill when your heart is melting into a puddle, but Victor manages to stand up and offer his hand. “Come on,” he says, affecting as much of a casual tone as he can. “I’m in if you are.”

Victor half-expects Yuuri to be an awkward dancer, but he’s delightfully wrong; the guy has a very good sense of rhythm, natural and comfortable. The pot has clearly eased Yuuri’s nerves; heaven knows that Victor’s own limbs feel like they’re made of spaghetti, so he just lets the rhythm dictate how he moves, opening his eyes when he feels Yuuri’s hand rest gently on his shoulder.

They catch each others’ eyes and try to hide simultaneous shy smiles.

 ~

It’s a few minutes after midnight and Victor and Yuuri have slipped outside with a small pipe. Chris and JJ have started playing Mario Kart again, and Emil and Sara are pretending to watch but are really just making out.

As soon as the sliding door clicks shut, Yuuri visibly deflates, flopping down on the porch steps with a contented sigh. Victor packs the weed into the bowl with his thumb and sits down next to Yuuri.

“So,” he says, flicking the lighter a little. “Having fun?” He lights up the bowl and takes a hit.

Yuuri leans back to gaze up at the stars, now on full display. “Yeah,” he says warmly. “I’m really glad I came out. It’s been too long since I’ve seen Chris.”

Victor passes the pipe and lighter over. “He’s good people. Did you know him well?”

Yuuri nods, mid-puff, and Victor pretends not to notice how he sucks in his cheeks. After he exhales, Yuuri nods again. “He lived down the hall from me in freshman year. I had a single room and was too shy to talk to anyone, and I thought I’d hate Chris because he was so...”

“Loud? Obnoxious? Ridiculous?”

Yuuri grins. “Lively.”

Victor laughs, a soft bark that disappears into the night. “You’re far too kind,” he murmurs, taking the pipe back. “Well, I’m glad things worked out.”

Yuuri lies flat on his back on the porch, arms tucked behind his head. “Me too,” he replies, eyes reflecting the stars above. “And Seattle seems amazing so far.”

Victor lies back similarly. “It has its moments. Like weed.”

Yuuri exhales, impressed. “Yeah. This stuff is...holy crap.”

“Very good,” Victor agrees.

“So far Chris was right about it,” Yuuri murmurs. “I wish I felt like this all the time. But then I wouldn’t function very well, I guess. But maybe I’ll ask Chris about getting some for myself.”

Victor chuckles. “I could give you a spare pipe, if you need.”

“That’d be nice, thank you,” Yuuri replies with a smile. “It’s just...god, it’s so nice to slow down my brain. I think about everything, so much, and it’s always so rapid. It’s part of what gives me anxiety. But right now I’m...like, all this stuff is still going through my head, but it’s slower. I can enjoy each step along the way, and—”

He’s cut off, and Victor looks over to see that Yuuri has clapped his hand over his own mouth, and is blushing again.

“What’s up?”

Yuuri shakes his head. “I’m so sorry. I was rambling.”

 _Yuuri seriously if you’re any more adorable I’m going to have a heart attack._ “Not at all,” Victor murmurs back, turning on his side to look at Yuuri and leaning on one elbow. “Weed does that. We’re all thinking dumb stuff right now.”

“No, I was—I’m sorry.”

“Seriously, don’t be,” Victor says. “But...do you—do you want some time to yourself? I can head back inside, no big deal.”

Yuuri shakes his head almost immediately. “It’s okay,” he replies.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Yuuri gets a deadly serious look in his eyes. “As long as I didn’t annoy you.”

Victor can’t help himself, and he cracks up. “You are not annoying at all,” he chuckles. “In fact, I find you very interesting.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“On the contrary. If you’re friends with Chris, that tells me you’re a pretty cool guy, at minimum.”

Now Yuuri turns on his side, mirroring Victor. “Same to you,” he says softly, and his eyes flick down to Victor’s mouth and then back up again, making Victor hyperaware of how close their faces are.

Yuuri suddenly closes his eyes and starts giggling, for seemingly no reason. Victor furrows his brow. “Uh, Yuuri?”

“S-sorry,” he laughs. “I had a crazy thought.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I, uh—” he chuckles again. “I kinda wanted to kiss you?”

Victor is already leaning in. “Yeah, I can do that,” he mutters rapidly just before their mouths meet.

Nerves exploding with sensation. Fireworks behind his eyes. The heavens bursting forth a choir of angels singing the Hallelujah Chorus. Yuuri shuffling closer, tongue exploring Victor’s mouth, gently biting his bottom lip— _ow._ Stairs digging into his ribs.

He drags his head back and hears himself say the words “would you like to go somewhere more comfortable?”

 ~

It’s maybe half past midnight and they’re in Victor’s darkened bedroom, making out like teenagers, shirtless and running their hands over bare skin, shivering in the wake of each touch and grinding against each other shamelessly. Yuuri’s hands fly to Victor’s jeans, but before he can start unbuttoning Victor drags his mind, kicking and screaming, out of its blissful pool of arousal and catches Yuuri’s wrist.

“No,” he pants. He feels Yuuri freeze and forces his brain to ramble the explanation. “You—we—I don’t think—”

Yuuri pulls back, eyes glittering in the low light. “Do you not want to…?”

Victor leans his forehead against Yuuri’s. “I do,” he yearns. “I really do. But—I don’t want to take advantage of you. It’s your first—”

“—wait.” Yuuri sits straight up. “What?”

The sudden absence of Yuuri’s hands leaves a chill on Victor’s skin. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry. “I...look, hooking up while high is really fun, but I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret just because of the pot.”

“Why would you think this is my first time?”

Now it’s Victor’s turn to blush. “I—no, I didn’t mean it like that, I just—I mean, I assume you’ve, y’know, but...is this not the first time you’ve ever smoked?”

Yuuri bursts out laughing, so loud that Victor cringes at the thought of Chris and the other guests hearing him. “You thought I’d never smoked pot before?”

 _My kingdom for a sip of water._ Victor’s tongue feels gigantic. “I...”

Yuuri wipes away a goddamn tear from the corner of his eye. “Victor. I was friends with Chris in college while we both did computer science degrees. We smoked weed _constantly._ ”

Puzzle pieces start clicking into place, forming a _very_ appealing picture. “...Sorry?” Victor offers, to which Yuuri shakes his head.

“Thank you for being concerned,” he says, holding up one hand as if to take an oath, “but I hereby give enthusiastic consent. Even though I’m stoned.”

“I mean, that’s—” Victor is cut off as Yuuri straddles him.

“Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”

“ _God_ , yes.”

 ~

It’s some time later, maybe hours, maybe minutes, but time has lost all meaning.

“I’m g-gonna—”

“Yes—”

“Are you—”

“— _so close Yuuri oh my god_ —” Victor’s fingers dig into Yuuri’s thighs hard enough to leave marks, watching Yuuri ride him with wild abandon.

“F-ffuuucck!” Yuuri comes in hot spurts across Victor’s stomach, pushing Victor over the edge, and he gasps for air as his orgasm hits in waves and black spots explode across his vision, and the gasps turn into laughter which turn into half-sobs. As the blood rushes from his ears Victor realizes Yuuri is laughing too, head thrown back, spine arched.

They breathe together, and slowly come back down to Earth. Victor hands Yuuri a box of tissues, and they carefully disengage. Victor sits up in order to deal with the condom; Yuuri flops over onto the bed, takes a single breath, and starts giggling again.

Victor slides back in between the sheets next to him. “Something funny?”

Yuuri shakes his head. “Just... _man_ , Chris wasn’t kidding about this weed.”

Victor tucks his arms beneath his head and feels the echoes of pleasure race down his body with every breath. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Can’t say I’ve ever orgasmed so hard it’s made me cry.”

“Me neither,” Yuuri whispers, grinning ear to ear. “I apologize in advance but I can’t elicit that sort of a reaction while sober.”

Victor’s phone buzzes, and he reaches over onto the nightstand to pick it up. His eyes take a second to adjust to the sudden brightness of the screen, but he sees it’s a text message.

 

Chris  
  
**Chris:** I knew you two would get along. You're welcome.

 

He groans.

“Something the matter?”

Victor closes his eyes, shaking his head as a smile creeps across his lips. “Just Chris.”

“Taking credit, is he?”

Victor drops his phone in shock, and it tumbles down between the mattress and the side table. “Shit! Hang on—yes, but...how did you...”

Yuuri hands over his phone so Victor can read a text from several hours ago:

 

Christophe Giacometti  
  
**Chris Giacometti:** <hint> Hey, Yuuri, for the record and so there’s no confusion: Victor thinks you’re cute and wants to put his face on your face. Just a heads up. </hint>

 

Victor hands the phone back. “Well, can’t really dispute it, the man gets results.”

Yuuri kisses him. “Nope,” he murmurs. “Can’t complain at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> *takes off top hat with a flourish, turns it over, shakes a little* Spare a writer a comment or a kudos? It pays off in spades, my loves. When you throw a few words at an author, we grow and give you more words right back. We're a good return on investment that way.
> 
> Also, if anyone is a reader of my longer fic, Setting Sun, please consider this AU to be a holdover while I untangle a bunch of weird writer's block knots. I promise more is coming!


End file.
